


The Flame

by AngryPirateHusbands



Series: The Start of Something [3]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Everyone Is Gay, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Pirates, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryPirateHusbands/pseuds/AngryPirateHusbands
Summary: As the Spanish Man O' War sets sail for Charlestown, Flint is forced to acknowledge that there is something between Silver and himself. He has long grown tired of pretending. Takes place during the finale of S2.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the scene in Flint's imagination/memory is a reference to Man with the Silver Tongue.

Flint had trusted that returning to Nassau would mark the return to the normal course of things . He couldn't have been more wrong. In the span of days their entire world had been torn asunder. Hornigold had been tossed onto the streets and a madman now resided in the fort. More than that, the Urca gold and all it represented had quickly become a distant memory. But just as his hopes of securing Nassau's future had begun to crumble like sands in the wind, he came into the tavern to find Abigail Ashe sitting before him. While he had humored Ms. Guthrie's plan to secure her he hadn't expected it to bare any fruit. Not by any means. Yet it appeared that he had underestimated the girl yet again.

They were now underway to Charlestown. The journey would take a week if not more. While Flint was eager to return young Abigail to her father, he couldn't deny that that eagerness was matched only by his unease. To the men the plan seemed simple: Return the girl and win her father's favor. In reality the situation was far more complex. He had no idea what would await them in Charlestown. Just as Miranda and himself had changed since the events in London, there was no doubt that Lord Peter Ashe had evolved just as much. He had heard the name attached to the man he now was. There was a time when Peter Ashe had shared Thomas' vision for a freed, redeemed Nassau. But now... Any and all pirates were viewed the same in his eyes. Monsters whose only cure was the taunt yank at the end of a noose.

Nassau's future depended entirely on this endeavor.

Despite the grim uncertainty of their journey Flint found himself under constant distraction. The worries that ebbed at edge of his mind would quickly give way to the image of Silver's face. To the feel of his lips and the taste of his tongue. The way his body quaked and his pulse quickened beneath his touch. Even now Flint found himself shaking these thoughts from his mind. There was too much at stake for him to entertain such notions.

Still, they persisted. It didn't help that he constantly felt the cook's eyes on him. No matter where on the ship he went, no matter the affairs he was tending to, he was there. Those bright blue eyes would catch his gaze and stare at him almost expectantly. Since their last encounter in his cabin Flint had succeeded in keeping the man at arm's length. At least until last night when the thief came to him once more. Again he had abandoned reason and gave in to his physical desires. And while he was once again resolved not to repeat those same mistakes, as John Silver observed him from across the main deck, he knew this was a battle he would lose. Again and again, he knew he would succumb to that touch. And Flint hated himself for it.

That night Flint sat in his cabin. Abigail had long fallen asleep in her hammock and Miranda read by candlelight not far from him. Flint's eyes were settled on the desk before him. However he looked past the maps and charts before him. Instead he kept imagining Silver in front of him. The man was spread back against the oak desk as they kissed and touched. Then he saw Silver below him, on his knees with hands slowly stroking up his thighs.

"Something on your mind?"

Miranda's voice immediately ripped the Captain from his thoughts. Fingers combed through his  hair as he sighed. "Sorry?" He spoke softly as fingers moved to rub the bridge of his nose. The exhaustion of the past few days seemed to wear on him suddenly.

The woman smiled that knowing smile. One that was so soft and so pure that it could brighten an entire room. "You seem particularly distracted this evening," she noted, her slender fingers closing the book as she looked up at him.

Flint offered a short shake of his head. "There's a lot to think about," he muttered gruffly. Fingertips tapped listlessly against the desk for a piece before he pushed himself up. "Need some air," he sighed in order to excuse himself. As he brushed past he placed a light kiss on her forehead. 

Crisp air welcomed the Captain as he walked onto the main deck. It seemed they still had their favorable wind. The man closed his eyes as he took in the scent of salt and felt the breeze against his face. The night watch was up on deck but the rest of the crew slept soundly below. Flint sauntered over to lean heavily against the side of the ship. He reveled in the few minutes of silence he had been granted. However, he was not too  surprised when he felt Silver join alongside him. The man leaned back against the rail with that fake, charming smile on his lips.

Flint simply sighed. "What?"

John scratched lightly at his cheekbone. "We'll be reaching Charlestown tomorrow," he pointed out nonchalantly. The man did have a gift for bringing attention to the obvious.

"Believe me, I'm aware." When Silver remained silent Flint glanced over at him with curiosity. The man was simply watching him. After a moment Silver gave a feint jerk of his head towards the cabin in suggestion. Green eyes shifted back towards the water as he felt that desire sink in his belly like a stone. This time Flint didn't even entertain the notion of denying himself. The events as of late had worn on him and he was exhausted. He was sick of this act; sick of the disarray Silver caused in his mind, and sick of lying to himself. "Unless you want an audience, that wouldn't be a good idea."

Silver simply shrugged. "Surely there's another room on this ship with a door."

* * *

Flint wasn't exactly sure who had been the first to initiate physical contact. Then again he didn't much care. The only thing that mattered at this point was the taste of Silver's tongue and the feel of those ebony curls tangled around his fingers. The Captain pressed him back up against the door of the supply room. The closet was quite cramped but it had a door and with that it would have to do. Not that he could complain about the close quarters. It simply gave him more of a reason to keep their bodies pressed together.

Hands moved away from Silver's hair to instead cup his cheeks. Thumbs stroked against the growing stubble before Flint took his mouth in a rough kiss. Those plump lips parted quickly and once more their tongues intertwined in a heated dance. When the two finally separated they found themselves out of breath. "Fuck," Silver gasped.

Flint's gaze bore into the man below him. His eyes had long grown heavy and clouded with lust. Teeth nipped lightly at the man's bottom lip before giving him another prolonged kiss. "Undo your trousers.." The order came with a husky tone and Silver quickly complied. He watched with keen interest as those clumsy fingers worked to free himself. Flint reached out to palm that length. His cock was already hard as he stroked it in a loose fist. He watched the way Silver quivered at his touch as if he were committing it to memory. The way his head fell back against the door with a dull thud, eyes closed as his hips gave an involuntary thrust into that hand.

After a moment he felt Silver's fingers begin to loosen his own breeches. He let the man do as he would and watched as he took in the sight of him. Flint soon pressed forward so that their cocks rubbed together. A moan left Silver's lips at the friction. Flint smirked and spat in his palm to slick the way as he encircled both their lengths. He stroked slowly at first before gaining a steady pace. Silver let slip a struggled groan, louder this time, and immediately Flint reached up to cover his mouth. "Fuck, you're loud," he swore. He could clearly feel the smile that pressed back against the palm of his hand.

When Flint was satisfied that the other man would at least try to keep quiet he removed his hand. He captured those lips in another passionate kiss before traveling along his jawline. His mouth sucked and teethed the skin as he settled against the nape of his neck. Silver writhed beneath him and he reveled in the feel of it. The man had begun thrusting against his cock and into the hand that partially enveloped it in a way that made Flint fight back his own moan. His newly-freed hand pushed up Silver's shirt to rub against one of his nipples. The nub hardened underneath the pad of his thumb and he pinched it roughly. Heavy eyes watched as Silver's teeth clamped down on his lower lip to stifle any noise.

Flint's breathing had begun to grow ragged as that hand quickened between them. The precome leaking from the man beneath him had helped slick the way for a more satisfying pace. Silver's breath caught in his throat. That body pushed back against him in a final few thrusts of his hips before the man came over the Captain's fist with a short cry.

Flint hissed as he felt that cock spasm against his own. His forehead pressed down hard against the cook's collarbone as he continued to work himself over. Not moments later he felt his own form grow rigid and he released with a low growl. Translucent white seed shot over his hand and Silver's stomach in thick streams. The Captain drew in deep breaths as he all but sank into the smaller body beneath him. Silver was pressed back against the door as he fought to catch his own breath. After several moments Flint found himself swallowing the lump is his throat. Neither said anything. However, he distinctly remembered their mouths coming together once more.

* * *

Flint returned to his cabin once he had cleaned himself up. However, the flush in his cheeks was unmistakable. Miranda was still awake reading when he entered, her dark brown eyes only raising when the door shut behind him. A small smile pulled at her lips as she took in the sight of him. Despite the usual frown that pulled at his lips she readily recognized it for the guise that it was. "You need to take more time recovering your appearance if you want to remain discreet," she mentioned gently. Flint gave her a questioning look and she explained. "Your hair is disheveled."

Flint's hand flew up straightaway to feel that she was right. Eyes glanced at Abigail to ensure she was asleep before he crossed the threshold. Fingers combed through his hair to right his ponytail as he seated himself beside her. Hands clasped atop the small table as he searched for the right words. Miranda couldn't help her smile as she marked her place and set the book aside. "The cook?" She ventured the guess and Flint's expression readily showed that she was correct.

The man's lips parted as if to silently ask "how?". Miranda had always been very perceptive, particularly when it came to him. But now he was worried that he had somehow let slip the thoughts  he assumed he had so easily stifled.

"He's been watching you these past few days," Miranda explained with a smile. "He seems rather taken with you." There was mirth in her eyes. A scoff left Flint's lips and he gave a meek shake of his head. Miranda's expression softened and she reached across the table to cover his hand with her own. "James." Though she spoke the name softly it grabbed his attention. "You know that all I wish for is for you to be happy. _He_ would want you to be happy." She shook her head slightly as she thought out her next words. "England has taken so much from us. The events that will take place tomorrow are so uncertain.. But please, do not let them steal your future happiness as well." The look in her eyes was almost pleading.

After a moment Flint moved to take her hand. He pressed those slender fingers against his lips before settling their hands back on the table. "I think you would like him," he murmured softly after a long moment. Despite himself a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. "I hate to say it, but he reminds me of him... Of Thomas. The way he speaks, he can capture the attention of the entire room. Granted, most of the shit that comes out of his mouth are fabricated stories and untold _lies_." He almost chuckled.

Miranda's smile returned as her thumb stroked the side of his hand. "Once this business tomorrow is settled, I believe that you owe me a proper introduction." Flint smirked faintly and kissed the back of her hand once more.


End file.
